


Never Said I Had the Time

by musicalgirl4474



Series: Whumptober 2020 [29]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is hard to keep in bed when he's sick, Blow Jobs, M/M, Oops., Sick Alexander Hamilton, Some angst, Whumptober 2020, sex written by a demisexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27276349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalgirl4474/pseuds/musicalgirl4474
Summary: John will resort to underhanded means to keep Alexander in bed so that he will eventually recover.Whumptober #29I Think I Need a DoctorIntubation/Emergency Room/Reluctant BedrestSince all of my whumptober stuff is canon era . . . it's the last one.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Series: Whumptober 2020 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956718
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Never Said I Had the Time

“Come onnnnn, John, I feel _fine_.”

John sighed, vaguely annoyed by the constant needling. “You may feel fine, but you are not to get out of bed, Hamilton, Doctor’s orders.”

“But I’m borrrrrred,” Alex whined, hand plucking at the neck of John’s shirt. He wished he could stop the heat from curling low in his gut, but Alex was looking up at him from below his eyelashes, biting at his lip, and John was only a man.

“You still have a slight fever and a cough,” he said instead, removing Hamilton’s hand from his shirt. “I’m not doing anything to aggravate your system.”

“Jooooohhhnnnn,” Alex whined as he takes his hand back. “Cuddle me?”

“You are a menace,” John said, but complied. It was after dinner anyway, Washington would not be angry if he took an early retirement to keep Alexander company.

Alex was hard to keep still and in bed. It was only two days later that Doctor Mann finally became fed up and sent Alexander back to the aides’ room at headquarters. Once there, Alexander quieted down. Until John figured out why. Alexander was somehow getting his hands on correspondence from France and translating it. No wonder John’s own workload had decreased.

“Alexander-” he said, disappointed, as he removed the travel desk and papers from the bed.

“John please, don’t . . . don’t make me useless.” Alexander looked frustrated, as if on the verge of crying.

He sighed. “You’re not useless-”

“I may as well be!” Alex yelled. “No one wants me to do anything, but I am perfectly able! Men are dying for this country, but I am not even allowed to write a couple letters just because of a lingering cold!”

“Alex-”

“No! You don’t understand John! You have a future, if you survive this war you have a place carved out for you! I have nothing! If I do not distinguish myself in this war -which is unlikely either way given the General’s reticence with granting me a field command- I will be back where I started! Unknown, unimportant, penniless, and worthless. If I die at least I might be remembered.”

John felt his heart begin to hurt in his chest, as if the muscle was stalling. “You can’t die-”

“Anyone can die, John! Everyone does, eventually. At least if I die in this war, I will have died for a cause.”

“Let me rephrase that then,” John said fiercely, sitting down and bracketing the infuriating man between his arms. “I will not _let_ you die.”

“You cannot control me,” Alexander said, a familiar challenge in his brilliant eyes.

“I think I can,” John said, leaning forward to give him a quick kiss. “I think,” he said, before leaning in to kiss him again, “that if I made you a deal,” another kiss, “I could get you,” and another, “to rest.”

“Hmmm,” Alexander hummed deep in his skinny chest, a smirk playing his mouth. “I wish you would, my dear Laurens.”  
“The quicker you get better, the quicker we can be less restrained,” John said quietly against his Alexander’s soft lips, “but for now . . . .” He moved downwards, bringing the blanket with him as he went.

Alexander has been in bed for days now, nearing two weeks, and there is a restless energy to his legs as John settles between them, nuzzling at a jutting hip bone. Alexander is warm, his skin soft, and for a moment John contemplates not going any further, just falling asleep here.

But Alexander’s length is hard and hot under his hand, and it’s been some time, and John is only a man . . . . It is quick work to undo the trouser’s laces, exposing him to John’s hungry gaze. “You will be quiet,” he commanded quietly, and Alexander whimpered, nodding quickly.

He’s happy to have his mouth filled, but he starts with licking at Alexander’s cock, glancing up to see how red his love is blushing. Such a beautifully responsive boy he has in his bed. He presses a wet kiss to the shaft before pulling away to kiss Alex again, pulling at his cock with loose strokes. Alexander responds enthusiastically, but John can hear the slight rattling in his chest that tells him Alexander may have a coughing fit in the next while. Best to get it over with so that Alexander will be able to sleep.

He slides his lips down around Alex’s cock, pulling him deep into his throat. Alex lets out a quiet groan, gagging himself with his own hand, and John hums around him, letting the vibration of his throat drive Alex wilder.

“Please, please, please,” the boy is babbling now, pulling with one hand at John’s queue. Feeling a smirk rather than showing it, John simply pulled back to suck at the head and let his love come into his mouth.

Alex’s breaths are gasping, as if the air had been punched out of him. John swallows, more in order to leave no evidence than to savor the taste, but it pulls another groan out of Alexander, so John counts it as a win nonetheless.

“Go to sleep now,” he said. “You’re not worthless, and you have a bright future ahead of you. I’ll talk with the General about work you could do while you recover.” Alex nodded, eyes appearing to grow heavy. “I love you my boy,” John said, brushing fever-sweat-slick hair from Alexander’s forehead, noticing with some worry that the fever seemed higher again, before leaving the room. Hopefully the rise in temperature was due to their . . . activities, rather than his illness making a return.

**Author's Note:**

> I am a demisexual lesbian writing a gay blow job. I apologize if it's no good. Also, this one may not be up to whump standards, but, well, I'm in a good mood because I completed a bunch of my grad school work, so I wasn't in the right mindset to come up with some of the sadism I need to write some of the Whumptober fics.


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